


Can I Do Your Hair?

by eugeneismyqueen



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Dadgene, Eugene is the best dad ever don't fight me on this one, Eugene's daughter definitely has him wrapped around her fingers, F/M, Parent Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider, Parenthood, Parents Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, captain eugene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eugeneismyqueen/pseuds/eugeneismyqueen
Summary: Willow wanting to play with Eugene’s hair? This was a first for her. Now, he is very particular about his hair and hardly likes anyone but Rapunzel messing it up, after all it’s not easy getting hair to look this effortlessly bouncy, he would say. But for Willow? Eugene was wrapped around her tiny, little finger, and before he knew what he was really agreeing to, he was saying, “sure, sweetheart. Why not?”
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Can I Do Your Hair?

**Author's Note:**

> The fandom needs more domestic, Dadgene content. These are just facts.

Eugene sunk into his favorite chair in front of the roaring fire in the sitting room. He popped a few buttons on his jacket and breathed for a moment. He didn’t have energy to go upstairs just yet and change out of his uniform, he was just too tired from the long day he’d had. He was training some new recruits for the guard, and that always took it out of him. He complained to Rapunzel that he was getting old, but she’d laughed and told him that thirty-four wasn’t old. 

It was quiet, far too quiet. Eugene felt like he could fall asleep in this chair and maybe he’d wake up energized, ready to get back to training tomorrow. 

But then the doors banged open and in rushed little Willow Helena, his baby girl, named for Rapunzel’s aunt and his late mother. She was being chased after by her babysitter, Catalina. 

“DADDY! DADDY!!” The young girl screamed giddily the moment her eyes landed on her father, and her short legs carried her over to him as quickly as she could. He reached forward and scooped her up. She was four, almost five and getting far too big for Eugene’s liking. 

He tickled her and she laughed and screamed happily like young children do. Cat was panting from racing around to keep up with the girl. 

“Hey Cat,” Eugene smiled warmly at her. “Go on home to Varian, I can take her from here.” 

“Thanks, Eugene.” She grinned and immediately spun and left, not wanting to wait around for Eugene to change his mind. 

It was odd for royalty to not have their children managed by nannies, but Rapunzel and Eugene weren’t your conventional sort of rulers. They’d both missed out on a loving childhood with their parents, and no one knew better than them that children deserved a happy upbringing. They thought it silly how many royals had children just to keep the line going, without really caring, shunning them off to be raised by tutors and nannies until they were of age to be courted and married off. No, the Fitzherberts were always around for their kids and always made time for them. But Rapunzel _was_ queen and Eugene _was_ Captain of the Guard and _sometimes_ this did require the use of a babysitter. Luckily, they had many to keep up with their toddling twins and another on the way.

“Where’s your brother?” Eugene asked Willow, realizing she was short a partner in crime. 

“Mommy’s reading him a story!” She said as if it was the plainest thing and Eugene was too silly to not realize it. 

“Ah, of course. And did you not want to hear the story too, Sunbeam?” Rapunzel was his Sunshine, but his little girl was definitely his Sunbeam. She never failed to put him in a good mood, and she was incredibly lucky to have been born when they’d had their babies. They hadn’t been expecting twins, and while their son, Ryder, had been delivered just fine, Willow had complications. She was breech and there was a horrifying moment Eugene never wanted to relive where he thought he was going to lose both Willow and his wife. 

“No!” She exclaimed. “I wanted to see you instead, Daddy.” With that, she snuggled into her father’s chest, diving nose first. Eugene laughed and wrapped his arms around his wiggly child. 

“Well, whaddya wanna do then, Willow-bean?” 

She pulled back to look at him very seriously, her eyes focused as she thought hard. And then a glimmer of an idea seemed to light up in her brain and she reached a tiny hand forward to tug on a fistful of Eugene’s hair. “Can I do your hair?” 

She’d been very interested in hair and dress-up lately. Rapunzel said this was normal for little girls to want to play pretend in their mother’s clothes. She liked sitting with her mother in the mornings, watching her do her hair and apply some light makeup. She loved when Rapunzel had to really dress up and wear a full face of makeup because she usually got a dab of rogue and a smidge of lipstick on her own face as well as a treat. 

But Willow wanting to play with Eugene’s hair? This was a first for her. Now, he is very particular about his hair and hardly likes anyone but Rapunzel messing it up, after all it’s not easy getting hair to look this effortlessly bouncy, he would say. But for Willow? Eugene was wrapped around her tiny, little finger, and before he knew what he was really agreeing to, he was saying, “sure, sweetheart. Why not?” 

* * *

Eugene was seated on the floor of his and Rapunzel’s bathroom, his legs were crisscrossed and he was now out of his captain’s jacket and was just wearing his loose, cotton undershirt and a more comfortable pair of pants. 

Willow stood behind him at the moment, using his shoulders sometimes for balance. There were clips and hair ties of all sorts littered on the floor around them and Eugene silently prayed that Rapunzel wouldn’t be coming in soon to see the mess or the state of his hair. Which he was slowly realizing wasn’t going to be any sort of salongrade quality with the amount of tugging damage Willow was doing to his scalp. With any luck, Eugene would still _have_ hair by the end of this ordeal. 

“You can’t look until it’s done,” she snapped as Eugene tried to peek into the hand mirror laying nearby on the floor. 

“Sorry,” Eugene said, a little dejectedly, slumping as he moved back into position for her to keep yanking on his hair. “Not to rush beauty though, but when _can_ I look?” 

“I’m almost done!” This was the third time she’d said that in fifteen minutes. 

“I leave my hair in your skilled hands, my dear.” He said this to be nice, he was uncomfortable really. There were several tied clumps he could feel tugging on his scalp very painfully, but he couldn’t tell her that and risk a quivering bottom lip. Rapunzel said he was a pushover, Eugene just said kids need to feel like they’re being heard. Rapunzel was very pregnant and very grumpy and looked ready to break one of his limbs at that. 

“You have to leave it all in until Mommy can see,” Willow said, full concentration on Eugene’s hair. She’d found his tub of mousse, and was now dipping her little fingers into it and spiking up little bits and pieces of his hair. 

_Thank God we have showers now,_ Eugene thought. He was definitely going to need one before bed. He’d already felt grimy from sweating today at training, and now his hair was clumpy from an over-abundance of product. He scratched an eyebrow, _she’s four, it’s fine._

“Do you think Mommy will like it?” He asked.

“Mhmm,” she nodded, very matter-of-factly. “She’s going to think you look pretty.” 

“I look pretty?”

“You will when I’m done.” A four year old never lied.

A few more clips, hair ties, and a final touch of flowers later, Willow finally decided she had finished her masterpiece. She proudly held the hand mirror up to Eugene who had to try very, very hard not to freak out. His jaw slackened in shock as he eyeballed his new ‘do. There were so many random clumps of ponytails, clips hanging at strange angles, mousse that hadn’t been properly worked in, and little, delicate flowers interwoven throughout. But she was looking at him—no, _beaming_ at him so expectantly that Eugene couldn’t help but to break out in a big smile, _it’s only hair after all._

“Do you like it, Daddy?”

“I love it, Sunbeam.”


End file.
